


Emergency Contact

by CallieFlower



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dream Gets Hurt, Eventual Fluff, Eventual dnf, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, George is Worried for Dream and it's cute, George is worried, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Angst, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, george goes to florida, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28401375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallieFlower/pseuds/CallieFlower
Summary: Dream is in an accident. George is listed as his emergency contact. Chaos ensues.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 227





	1. The Call

The second before the impact lasted half an eternity. Dream stared, aghast and helpless out the windshield as his car spun through the slick, straight into oncoming traffic.

_"Shit."_

He had scarcely enough time to get the words out before, over the screech of his brakes, the door crumpled in on him, deploying the airbag, and he lost consciousness.

-

George was streaming when the phone rang. It was Dream, so he picked up, ready to good-naturedly tease him for missing another stream.

”Dreamy-poo,” He sang into the mic, playing to the webcam and viewers behind it, “What took you so long?”

”Is this George?” The voice on the other end of the line was not Dream’s. It was sharp and professional, striking a chord of anxiety in George's chest.

Brow furrowing, Georges voice sharpened, “Who is this?”

”A doctor at St. Grace Hospital. Clay, your friend, has been in an accident. You were listed as his emergency contact.”

George blanched, his expression dropping in time with his stomach, all his blood turned cold. He couldn’t be hearing this right, “This is George, could you repeat that?”

"This is St. Grace Hospital, your friend Clay has been in a vehicular accident. As his emergency contact, we notified you as soon as we could.”

”Just one second.” George covered the phone’s microphone, turning back to the webcam. Chat was spamming questions too fast for him to read, and he kept his excuse simple, “Sorry, I’m going to have to end stream. Bye guys!” Abruptly, the stream ended, and George's hand flew to his mouth, "Is he okay?" He demanded.

"He's in surgery right now. The wounds caused by the accident were quite extensive, but he's getting very good care here. Is there anyone else I should contact? A parent of his?"

Through numb lips, George replied an assent, reading off the contact information where they could reach Dream's mother, "Excuse me, doctor-"

"Nurse. You can call me Niki."

"Niki, right, I'm ah, pretty far away right now, but I'm gonna be there as soon as I can, okay? Tell him I'm gonna be there as soon as I can."

"Well, he's in surgery right now, and I'm not sure-"

"Please," George's voice broke, and he hesitated, "Please tell him George is coming. He's on his way and will be there as soon as he can."

"I- I will."

"Thank you." George hung up the phone and dropped his head into his hands. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. The surreal nature of the whole situation was beginning to sink in and it was all he could do to not burst into tears. He shook his head, clearing some of the panic that was setting in and began throwing clothes and toiletries into a suitcase.

He was going to Florida.


	2. Eighteen-And-A-Half Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which George ruminates on the plane, anxious and impatient.

Some twenty minutes after packing, George was at the airport, phone clasped to his chest in a convulsive death grip. He staggered up to the ticketing desk, "What's the next flight to Florida."

The woman looked him up and down, nodding with an odd expression, and typed the relevant information into her computer, "It seems there's a flight leaving in half and hour, for Tallahassee, you can catch it if you hurry."

"Thank you!" George was already running for the gate before she finished her sentence, feet pounding the linoleum in his haste.

He hustled through security, harshly wringing his hands all the while and not stopping to re-tie his shoes in his dash to the gate. The voice came over the intercom, aggravatingly calm in contrast with his frantic pace. **_Final boarding call for Flight 268, Brighton to Tallahassee, this is the final boarding call for Flight 268, Brighton to Tallahassee._**

Like an olympic sprinter, George put on a final burst of speed, his carry-on nearly flying behind him as he weaved through the people between him and the gate. He arrived just as the attendant was closing the barrier.

"I'm here! _I'm here._ " He wheezed, hands on his knees, gasping for air. _God, I need to run more often._ He had made it, _I'm going to Florida!_

The flight was agony. Every second slipped by like a small eternity unto itself, time moving like molasses through an hourglass. His hands were starting to hurt with how much he was twisting them in his lap. He was bleeding slightly where his nail had pierced his skin. George's phone was on airplane mode, though this didn't stop him from compulsively checking every other second, turning the device over in his hands. There were no updates, of course, and he cursed the little plane icon at the top of the screen. His stomach was in knots. _Dream could be- oh god- he could be- he could be dead and I wouldn't even know._

_I wouldn't even know._

Against his will, George's eyes began to tear up, and he rose jerkily from where he sat, closing himself into the bathroom. As soon as the door was closed, he slid down the shaking wall and began to sob silently into his knees, every wave of repressed emotion coming spilling out from behind the dam he had so sloppily constructed in his panic. It was all he could do to keep quiet. _God, my stomach hurts-_

He squeezed his eyes shut, as if he could stop the tears from flowing by sheer force of will. The plane shuddered slightly, running through airborne turbulence that normally would send fear jolting into George's gut. This time, he only tightened his grip on his legs, crying harder than before. _Why me? Why make me his fucking **emergency contact**_ **.** _I live in fucking Brighton._ _Please, God, if you exist, just let him make it. Let him make it, I'm begging you._

_I'll do anything._

Grasping his stomach tightly, George lurched toward the shitty gray airplane toilet and emptied his stomach of what little airplane fare he had managed to consume. He looked into the scuffed, keyed mirror. _Jesus, George, you look like shit._ The thought came in Sapnap's voice. It was almost enough to make him smile, almost enough to make him forget the weight of the frigid terror that grasped his shoulders with icy talons. It was almost enough to make him light again.

Bowing his head, he wiped his eyes on the back of his hand, splashing his face with the tepid water from the sink in an attempt to dispel the redness of his eyes. The copilot's voice sounded through the intercom. **_We are circling over Tallahassee airport, please return to your seats for landing._**

George staggered back to his seat, almost unaware of the foul taste in his mouth in his anxious trance. He hardly noticed the plane landing with a soft _bump_ on the runway, or the intercom's static-filled weather report of ground conditions. There was only one thought in his paralyzed mind, cycling on repeat, over and over again.

_I'm coming, Dream. Hold on. I'm almost there._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! The next chapter should be out soon, likely within the next few days. If you enjoyed this delightful bout of George angst, leave me a comment, it would make my day. Otherwise, aside from that, I'll see you next time!  
> xoxo,  
> callie


	3. The Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which George arrives in Florida, to a most shocking discovery, and has to make a choice.

George was out the doors almost as soon as the plane's hatch opened. To the sound of disgruntled fellow passengers, he rushed through the throng to reach the airport's doors. Once outside, he hailed a taxi, sidestepping a small family standing before him in line.

"Sorry!" George muttered, climbing into the yellow car. His mind was elsewhere. He turned to the driver, still distracted, "St. Grace Hospital, please."

The driver gawked at him through the rearview, "That's fifty miles out, son. You sure you still wanna go?"

"Erm, how much would that be?"

"One hundred fifty-eight dollars plus idling rate."

_oh._ George rummaged through his bag, shifting aside his change of clothes and small bag of toiletries to find the wad of cash he'd brought with him, "I have two hundred here, will that be enough?"

The driver paused a moment, running the numbers in his head before nodding, "Yeah."

George let out his breath, "Okay."

_Hold on, Dream. I'm almost there._

Then his phone rang. It was the hospital, again. Heart hammering, George picked up, "Hello?"

"Hello, this is St. Grace Hospital, is George speaking?"

"Yes."

It was a different person on the line this time, not the nurse from earlier, and their tone was more clipped, "We need consent to perform a procedure. Your friend is in critical condition. His leg, and the doctors need to know if they have your consent for an operation to save it."

"What?" George's voice rose in incredulity, this couldn't be right, "Why are you asking me?"

"As his emergency contact, your friend Clay also gave you medical power of attorney. His surgeon wants to perform an operation to save his leg, part of which was shattered in the accident. Amputation is the other option, as there are many risks associated with the procedure."

"What risks?" George demanded, shaking his head. His hands began to tremble, making the phone clatter against his ear. He gripped it tighter, like the lifeline that it was. His connection to Dream.

"We legally cannot perform the procedure if the patient does not have a psychological support system in place. The risks include sepsis, and there is a possibility there might still need to be an amputation above the knee."

_This can't be real._

"Is there anything else you can do? To save his leg?"

"Not in his current condition. He's in critical care in the ICU right now, so a different procedure is not possible. We need consent within the next two hours or his leg will no longer be viable, and will necessitate amputation."

"I'm on my way to the hospital right now. I should be there in an hour, can I make the decision then?"

"Yes. That would be possible. We'll call you with any updates on his condition."

"Thank you." George hung up the phone, staring at the inactive black screen and seeing his own reflection. He stared into the blankness for a prolonged moment, letting his incredulity fade and the sheer weight of the situation's horror wash over him.

_I can't make this decision. I can't do it._

He turned on the phone, _He's relying on me. Why the **fuck** is he relying on me? _In the nearly twenty hours since he'd left, George felt the odd sensation of anger replacing some of the overwhelming anxiety. _Why would he do this to me? How could he do this to me?_

He had half a mind to call back. Tell them he couldn't do it. Tell them to call Dream's mother. Tell them to _fuck off._ Instead, he dialed Sapnap.

Sapnap picked up on the third ring, "Hello?" His voice was groggy and tinged with annoyance. George had obviously disturbed him. "It's 2AM, George."

"Sapnap?" George's voice quavered on the line when he tried to speak, everything inside threatening once more to spill out, to engulf him, drown him in his own thoughts.

"Is everything okay?"

"Sapnap, _I need help._ "

"What? What's going on? What do you need?"

George explained what had happened. By the end, his eyes were brimming with tears. He wiped them away with his now-dampened sleeve. "What the fuck do I do, Sapnap?"

"I-" Sapnap's voice broke as he processed the information he'd been given, "I... I don't know, George."

"Sapnap-" His voice shaking with desperation, George's teeth chattered with the effort not to cry, "Sapnap, I might _kill_ him. Why did he _do_ this?"

There was a deep sigh on the other end of the line, and a drawn-out pause before Sapnap spoke, "George, are you listening to me?"

"Y-yes."

"George, listen up. Dream made you his emergency contact. It means he trusts you more than anyone, although I think we all already knew that. I can't tell you what to do, and even if I could, I still wouldn't be able to. Nobody knows Dream as well as you, you get me?"

"I-"

Sapnap cut him off, "This is fucking scary shit, George, I know. I'm terrified for him too. But I know you can do this. I _know_ you can make this choice." There was silence as both men contemplated the surreality of the situation, "Are you still there, big G?"

"I- yeah." George nodded, even though he knew Sapnap couldn't see. "I'm here. And I know what I have to do."

_They're going to do everything in their goddamn power to save him. I just hope he won't hate me when he wakes up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This was a hard chapter to write, and I really hope you like it. If you enjoyed, I'd be delighted by a comment or some kudos. Either way, I'll be updating this work very soon (it's just so fun to write!) and I'll see you next time!  
> xoxo,  
> callie


	4. Twenty-four hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which George faces the consequences of his choice.

George sat silently in the acute care unit, stale, sterile air permeating his lungs. He had arrived to the hospital about an hour ago, to find an empty room with Dream's name on it. He had asked where his friend was.

"We moved him back to the ICU after his lung collapsed and he went back in for surgery. He should be out in an hour." The nurse had told him, "We'll keep you posted."

He didn't know what he'd expected, exactly, but it wasn't this. He stood up, wringing his aching hands, and walked to get a cup of coffee.

"You should try to sleep. He won't be awake for a while after he comes out of surgery." It was the nurse from earlier, on the phone. 

_Niki, I Hthink..._ It didn't matter anyway, she was gone when George turned around. He shook his head, had he imagined her? It wasn't so farfetched, he hadn't slept for almost twenty-four hours now.

"Shit!" George dropped the cup of coffee he'd been holding, spilling its exceedingly hot contents onto himself. He yelped, slipping in the puddle, and fell squarely on his ass on the linoleum. It wasn't painful so much as embarrassing. Gingerly picking himself up, he re-poured the coffee and sopped up the spill with some paper towels.

"George?" A scrub-clad doctor called from across the room. 

George jumped up like he'd been shocked and bolted over to the doctor, "What happened? Is he okay?!"

"He made it through surgery and is resting in the ICU. Would you like to see him?"

" _Yes."_

Together, they walked toward the elevators. The doctor turned to him, meeting his gaze, "Your friend was very lucky. We were able to reconstruct his lung and stop the internal bleeding, but he's not out of the woods yet. His right leg was shattered in the collision and even though the surgery was successful, we can't be sure if it is going to survive."

"But he's going to be okay? He'll live?"

"The night is vital, we're keeping him sedated, but if his lung remains intact and the bleeding has stopped, he'll pull through. You can sit with him, but you should probably get some sleep. He won't wake up until tomorrow, when he's off the sedative, and when he does, he'll be in a lot of pain."

"I understand."

The doctor indicated a room in front of them, opening the glass door quietly, "He's in here. I'll leave you to it. Press the call button if you need anything, and a nurse will do rounds every fifteen minutes."

The door closed behind him, and George was alone with his friend. It felt almost sacrilegious to see Dream's face, even more so because of the machines attached to him. He was intubated, and bandages covered half of his face, but ignoring them, Dream looked almost peaceful. As quietly as he could, George pulled up a chair and seated himself beside the bed. It was all he could do to keep from sobbing right then and there. He just looked so... fragile, where he lay, like the slightest touch could shatter him completely.

"I'm so sorry, Dream." George murmured, putting his head in his hands, "I am so, so sorry."

As gingerly as he could, George took Dream's hand in both of his own, letting the warmth of his friend's hand reassure him. On some odd impulse, he leaned over and gently pressed a kiss to Dream's knuckles.

Immediately, he felt ridiculous. Then ashamed, his cheeks heating as he looked to the left and right, checking if anyone saw. George lay his head down beside Dream's hand, listening to the beep of the heart monitor.

"Please," He whispered, "Please, Dream, please be okay."

_Please be okay._

He lay there all night, eventually drifting off to the sound of the ventilator and machines around them.

_Please be okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! I put down this chapter and decided it would be more narratively appropriate to split it into two, so this work is going to be five chapters instead of four. I hope you enjoyed chapter 4, the finale will be out expediently. If you liked this, it warms my heart to read comments and interact with you guys, or to get kudos, which I love. Aside from that, I'll see you next time!  
> xoxo,  
> callie


	5. The Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which George makes a confession.

George awoke by degrees. The first thing he became aware of was something on his head. _A hand?_ Dream was gently stroking his hair, running it through his fingers. He opened his eyes slowly to see the sun streaming in through the windows behind the bed. He shot upright, only then realizing he had fallen asleep at all, dislodging Dream's hand from where it lay. He turned to see Dream, battered as he was, smiling at him.

"You came." Dream rasped, voice raw and cracking, "You came to see me."

"Of course I did," George's heart ached for the man in the bed, at the ragged voice he spoke with, so different from the one he'd come to know over the phone and yet still so much he same, still stirred up those elusive butterflies that flitted in his stomach, "Of course I came."

There was a beat of silence between the two men, and George's phone buzzed. He ignored it, too busy taking in the planes and curves of his friend's face. It was symmetrical, pale, with freckles and eyes that were a greenish-gray, bright and expressive despite the pain medications. The accident had caused a jagged gash to cut down Dream's face, from his left eyebrow, narrowly around his eye, all the way down to his lip, held closed with medical tape.

"Dream? Why'd you pick me?"

"What'd you mean?"

"As your contact." _And didn't fucking tell me about it._

"Oh, that. Yeah. I- uh, I'm sorry about that. If it scared you and stuff."

 _If it scared me? **If it scared me?**_ George jumped up from the chair, knocking it over and making Dream startle violently, "You scared the _shit_ out of me!" He yelled, holding back tears, "You put me as your emergency contact! The fucking guy they call if you get hit by a bus!"

"It was a car, actually."

"I don't care! I thought you were dead!" Tears were pouring freely down George's face now, "They called me and asked to _cut your leg off_. And you didn't even bother to _tell me!_ God fucking _damn it!_ " No longer angry, George sat down on the edge of Dream's bed and let out a huffing sob, all the last day's emotions coming out at once, and hid his face in his shirt. He looked back up at Dream, eyes brimming with anguish, "Why would you _do_ that to me?"

Dream reached out a hand, cupping George's cheek in his palm, "George- Gogy. Look at me. Listen." George allowed himself to be pulled into a hug, gingerly reaching over the bandages to embrace his friend. Dream whispered in his ear, "I'm so sorry."

"No. _I'm_ sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you, that was shitty." George mumbled into Dream's shoulder, holding his friend tightly.

"Ow!" Dream's hand flew to his bandaged stomach, wincing hard.

George jumped back, hand over his mouth, "Oh god, did I hurt you? Do I need to call the nurse?"

Dream reached out, grasping his elbow, "No, no, it's okay. I'm okay." He pulled George back into his arms, "I'm okay."

"Sorry." George whispered, burying his face in Dream's hospital gown, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Gogy. I'm so sorry I put you in that position." Dream said, stroking George's head, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

On impulse, George looked up at Dream, leaning over, and pressed a short, chaste kiss to his brow, "I know," He stared into Dream's eyes, their green-gray depths left him weak-kneed and mesmerized, "I love you."

"W _h_ _at?"_

 _Shit! Fuck! Did I say that out loud?_ George jumped backward, off the bed, holding up his hands, "Oh god, Dream, I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean it- I"

"Hey! Hey, it's okay, George, it's okay! You just surprised me, that's all. I-" Dream cut himself off, hesitating, leaving George hanging onto the precipice of his next words, "I love you too, George." Dream said it so quietly George almost didn't hear him, almost didn't understand what Dream had said, almost missed the five words that he'd dreamed about for longer than he could remember. But he heard, and he looked around the room and sighed.

"Dream, I'm sorry, I-"

Dream interrupted him, "No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that, I fucked up, I'm- I shouldn't have- It's okay if you don't... like that-"

"I do."

"You do?"

George nodded, hands shaking, "I do. I just don't- I didn't- I didn't imagine it happening- I didn't imagine telling you like... like this."

"Gogy- George, come here." Dream beckoned with one hand, taking George's in his own, guiding him to sit back down on the edge of the bed, "George. Hey. It's- Shit doesn't always happen like in the movies. It's okay. I wouldn't want it to, anyway." His thumb traced the curvature of George's lip, "All I need is for us to be together."

George snorted, "I thought you were going to say 'all I need is you'. So unromantic."

"Oh, shut up and kiss me already," Dream said, pulling George closer until their lips touched. When they pulled apart, breathing heavily, Dream broke into a wide, goofy grin, feigning sadness, "How cruel, George, to mock the injured."

George rolled his eyes, "Oh, shut up, you!"

Both men laughed, tension abating from the atmosphere.

_This is us._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! The finale! Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this saga, let me know with a comment, or some kudos if you don’t feel like writing. I love interacting with the fandom. This was quite the undertaking, and thank you for all the support I’ve received along the way, on ao3 and tumblr (@thepoglog for those who are curious.) I hope to see you all next time, or on another fic I’m sure to write. Till then!  
> xoxo,  
> callie

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, a comment would make my day, or kudos would also be appreciated. This story will update very fast, as I have most of the chapters already mostly written, so subscribe if you want as well. I write a lot for this fandom, so if you like my style, check out my page. Aside from that, I'll see you next time!  
> xoxo,  
> callie


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